


Oblivion [HIATUS]

by shreklover_06



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Astral Projection, Childhood Trauma, Cursed, Demons, Eventual Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Foster Kid Violet, Ghosts, Horror, Massachusetts, Possession, Psychics, Slow Burn, Wicca, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25909624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shreklover_06/pseuds/shreklover_06
Summary: After experiencing a traumatic childhood tragedy, young Violet is put in the foster-care system; where she bounces from household to household. Now seventeen, she is suddenly sent to live with her great aunt in Massachusetts, who had refused to take her until now. Moving two thousand miles away from her home state, she comes to live in a small town, in her aunt's massive but ancient house. There she begins to experience strange and abnormal occurrences that she finds she's unable to explain, and also struggles to get used to her new high school. While at perhaps the peak of the activity, she meets a strange girl named Clementine, who seems to know way too much about her problems.
Relationships: Clementine/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	1. Déjà vu

It’s a horrible feeling to have, not being able to discern just what that eerily familiar sensation originates from. To wonder if it was really just from a foreboding dream or a coincidental correlation of events. I hate this feeling. I hate this place. I want to go home.

But when I think about home, my mind comes up empty. I don’t exactly have a place to home anymore. I don’t even really know the word means anymore; it’s become so jumbled up and muddled throughout my years of growing up. Home used to mean something to me. It meant the people I loved, and who I hoped loved me back. After everything went to shit, in the very beginning, I grasped onto that meaning of home. I was too young to understand that things were too complicated to ever be like they once were, and moving from foster family to foster family was enough to permanently change the word for me. When I think of home now, I think of nothing.

A foolish thought had crept into my head when I first arrived. I pondered if perhaps this place could be a home, but then I figured I was just thinking like the child version of me would because everything looked so familiar. But it wasn’t a place I ever recalled being in. I didn’t understand why it caused a rush of nostalgia to seep into all the shut off, guarded little places in my brain. It seemed silly for me to be getting so worked up about this place, since I knew deep down it would end like all the others did… Regardless if I was staying with my own blood this time.

I know it will end the same because I know that things will never change. Trauma doesn’t just go away like that all because you’re staying with someone in your own family. I will never be able to make the past just go away. What I saw won’t just disappear from my mind. It will never not keep me up some nights, and it will never not terrify me to the very core of my entire being. I know, unless I get the fuck out of here and start trying to forget, that I’m going to have to live like this till the day I finally die. I will live a life of mental torment, as compensation for whatever I had done to upset some angry, vengeful God -- if he even existed. If I didn’t move on and start over as a whole different person, I would suffer. And I would suffer a miserable existence until I was finally removed from the Earth. 

Technically, in this brand new town, nearly two thousand miles away from the state I’d grown up in, I was starting anew. In theory, it sounded like all I’d ever wanted for the past few years: a perfect getaway. But now that I was here and I was facing reality, I thought perhaps even this could not truly solve all of my problems. 

I wrench my head away from the window, looking away from all those houses; the happy looking houses that I had only dreamed of living in as a kid. This kind of happy life could’ve been possible, perhaps attainable before everything that happened. Maybe I could have made this kind of life for myself, if only I wasn’t so goddamn stupid and immature. 

The woman turns around in the driver’s seat, soft and gentle grey eyes falling on my own desolate green ones. “Looks quite beautiful, wouldn’t you say?” She always speaks with such a peculiar hopefulness; a spirit clearly filled with an almost childish kind of ambition and wonder. Her entire being was surrounded by such a positive aura -- a glowing, almost blinding kind that I knew I could never stand to stare at for too long. She was like an angel.

I nod my head just slightly in indication that I agreed, though it was a lie of course. I already despised this place and it’s perfect happy little houses and perfect happy people. My envy easily clouded any appreciation I could muster of the admittedly quaint layout of the town and its unique and almost mind-dazzling architecture of all the buildings held within it. Negative emotions always seem to come first with me. Maybe that’s why no one ever puts up with me for long. 

“Now I’m sure some people would disagree with me on this, but I tend to think that my own home -- our home now -- is the most remarkable of all the other homes in this town. It’s old, I know, been around since the early 1800’s in our family, but it’s got a real historic charm for sure. I like to think about all the different kinds of people who lived within the walls of the old place… really quite amazing, I’d say, to live in a place so filled with rich history.” The woman continued on cheerfully, not particular caring if I was listening or not. 

Sure, she was an angel, but God, she didn’t know when to shut up. 

“I think you’ll really enjoy living with me in the old place, well probably not as much as I do… but I’d like to think we will grow to become a real family after a while, you know. But seriously, living there really gives you an appreciation for simpler times.” She met my eyes once more through the mirror. I looked away as soon as I registered her gaze. 

She cleared her throat rather loudly and then flipped up her left turn signal, activating the annoying clicking sound that most cars made when doing so. Her car was probably just as old as her house from the looks of it; both interior and exterior. I wondered if perhaps she was either just cheap or financially unstable. It was unlikely that it was the latter, as the system probably wouldn’t have placed me in the care of a single woman who was struggling for money. 

But who knows, maybe they were just that desperate to get rid of another problem child like me. Hell, even I’m desperate to get rid of me, so I certainly can’t blame them. 

“Hmmm, I’m pretty hungry. How about you?” The woman finally spoke again, defeated look absent from her countenance and replaced with her normal cheerful and optimistic self. 

I shrugged. I wasn’t all that hungry, but I supposed I could eat if I had to. 

“Well I think I’ll stop for some food. This town may be small, but we do happen to have a local McDonald’s, as rundown and outdated as it may be.” I perked up at that, being that I quite enjoyed their chicken nuggets. It reminded me of my childhood, before everything changed. We used to pick up McDonalds every Sunday after church. 

“I’ll get you something just in case you get hungry later on,” She announced as she continued to drive. Looking off into the distance, I could clearly see the infamous McDonalds sign a bit further back. I guessed she must’ve seen the sign before and had immediately gotten the idea to get lunch there. I really couldn’t complain. 

Underneath everything, I still couldn’t push the lurking thoughts away that I had been in this place before. It was gnawing at my mind, and I needed to know just why this place was so damn familiar. I had never heard of the town’s name before in my life and I had most definitely stopped by for a visit, since I lived in Texas and this town was located in Massachusetts. Yet, I had such an unmistakable feeling that I indeed had. 

Does it really matter if I’ve been here before, though? It wasn’t like I would be staying here for long. Maybe a few months… maybe a few weeks. Maybe I’ll be gone in a day, as lovely and unrealistic as it was. The woman is no fool. She knows how I am, she will watch. She will undoubtedly keep a very close eye on me. 

“I have a real good feeling about this whole situation, to be honest. I think that you will like it here. I’m sure you’ll make a lot of friends at school too, with you being such a pretty girl. People usually like to talk to girls who look as pretty as you do. Especially the boys.” She said with a small smile. 

I looked down at my worn out Vans, crossing my arms. She was just straight up lying. I wasn’t pretty at all. I looked sickly pale and skinny. No matter how many times I showered, my hair always had a greasy, unwashed look to it. My hair was cut short, and it wasn’t as if I was fortunate enough to amass a wardrobe filled with anything besides boyish-looking thrift store clothes. No boy would ever go for me, and while I was perfectly okay with that, I was disappointed by the fact that no girl would either. Girls are even more picky. 

“However, if you choose to ignore those people like you’re ignoring me, that may not be so true.” She added after a short silence, annoyance indicated by the tone of her voice. She wanted me to talk to her so bad, I could see this easily. She was desperate for at least a conversation with me. She wanted to get through to me; to help me; to fix the unfixable. 

The woman let out a soft sigh and pulled into the parking lot of the McDonald’s. It was quite populated, suggesting it was a usual lunchtime hangout for most inhabitants of the town. Maybe it was the convenience or the low cost of the food. It seemed like there were two sides of town; ones with the big houses that I’d seen, with brand new fancy cars, and then the people driving around in busted old models who lived in equally old houses or even the trailer park down the way.

Towns like this; quaint and perfect-appearing, located out in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest shopping mall about an hour away were always exceedingly challenging to cope with. Everyone knew everyone and everyone always needed to know what was going on with everyone. There was always someone breathing down your neck, watching your every move, simply because their lives were boring and meaningless as well and they had nothing better to do but eavesdrop on other people. 

These types of towns often wore masks and constantly kept up with appearances. This was my reasoning for my great preference for urban neighborhoods, where people could really care less if their next door neighbor was having a crisis or not. The easiest people to deal with were the ones who resided in the city, and I always felt more comfortable there. 

When she finally exited the car, leaving me alone at last, I slumped back in my seat, exhaling aloud. We weren’t even at her house yet and I already felt a very strong desire to run far away. While it was quite clear that the woman was not a bad person in any way, and appeared to only have the best intentions with taking on the responsibility of me, it seemed like her excessively caring ways would eventually manifest into pure nagging. I could envision it now, her always pushing me to go out of my comfort zone; to make efforts in being a normal teenager and to live the fantasy that she herself probably had never been able to experience. 

She probably wanted me to make lots of friends, go to parties, and maybe meet a nice, respectable guy at school or maybe even out and about in town. She had probably been just like me as a teenager, a natural loner who could never quite fit in well with the rest of the crowd. She had probably wished too for the kind of life she was trying to lead me to as well, but it had assumably never seemed attainable for her. So she hopes that I will want this kind of life too, all so she can live vicariously through me. Her teenage dreams becoming a reality. 

Sadly, she had picked the wrong kind of girl. In the end, I was nothing like her. I had never, ever wanted the things she had dreamt up for herself in her little fantasy. And I knew that I never would. Things could never play out that way for someone like me, anyways. I would even make sure of this.

Curiously, I sat up and looked outside the window, glancing around the parking lot. Most of the cars were empty, however she saw a young girl sitting in the passenger side of her turned off car. The girl couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, and her eyes were glued to her phone screen. This was pretty typical of kids of that age nowadays, and even kids the same age as me. I couldn’t really relate to the so-called phone addiction, but I didn’t judge anyone for it. I never was allowed my own cell phone, and even when I was, it had to be returned before I left the family I was staying with. If I had one, though, I would surely use it. Cell phones were a wonderful way to escape reality, and I sort of envied those who were fortunate to own one for the entirety of their adolescence.

I looked away so she wouldn’t think I was a stalker for staring. On the other side of the car, there were just empty cars. By this point, a few minutes had passed by and I was growing increasingly bored and hot inside the car. It certainly wasn’t as hot as Texas had been, I had immediately realized this as soon as I stepped foot outside the doors of the airport in Boston. I had never been the type to like the heat, so I couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of experiencing snow and chilly weather once winter came. But I was doubtful that I would even make it that long. It was only mid-August and the cold would probably only start in late October or so. Two months was a relatively long time in the same place, but not entirely impossible.

Still, even with Massachusetts being cooler, staying inside a car with no AC would never not be uncomfortable. Curiously, I tried opening the door nearest to me. It was to no avail, however, since apparently the car had the child locks on. I grumbled in discontent, kind of upset that she hadn’t trusted me enough to leave the car unlocked. I was determined to get some fresh air, though, so I promptly climbed into the passenger seat, thinking I could just unlock it from the button there. I was stunned to see that the button had absolutely no effect on the locked car. Obviously this woman had prepared for me trying to run away or something. I wondered how I would possibly have a single moment to myself with her being so suspicious from the start.

For a moment I considered climbing into the driver’s seat to check if the other button might work, but immediately discarded the idea when I noticed that the woman was already making her way to the door of the establishment. Not wanting to sit next to her, I quickly clamored into the back of the car where I had been before. When she stepped outside, I could make out that she was struggling with two large bags of food. This confused me since there were only two of us, and she didn’t seem like the type to binge eat.

I kept my head down as she drew closer, not wanting to make eye contact since I was still annoyed over here leaving me to sweat in her locked car. When she finally opened the driver side door, I breathed a sigh in relief, as a gush of fresh air entered the vehicle.

“I saw you tried to open the door earlier… sorry about that, the car is really old and doesn’t work very well…” She immediately said as she set down the bags of food on the passenger seat and slid into the front seat. I raised my eyebrows, wondering why she didn’t just unlock the door with her keys when she saw me struggling.

“Oh, and the keys aren’t automatic either, I have to manually unlock the car through the driver’s side keyhole.” She added, immediately sensing my doubt. It eased my mind for a moment, thinking perhaps she wasn’t as distrustful of me as I had assumed, but at the same time, she could just be bluffing because she didn’t want to seem harsh.

“I got two ten-piece nuggets and all the sauces they had. Oh, and just in case you’re not a fan of chicken nuggets, I also got two burgers, one plain and one with everything. I just wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to force you to eat something you don’t like. Don’t worry about the cost, we can just save some of the food for later tonight or even tomorrow. Otherwise we can just throw it away, it doesn’t matter to me…”

It was impressive, really, how hard she was trying to make a good impression. For a second, I almost thought that she genuinely wanted to care about me, but then immediately pushed those thoughts away. It’s more likely that she’s just trying to win me over so she can prove to everyone how she ‘fixed me’ or something by buying me nice clothes and talking to me. I wasn’t going to let that happen, but I knew I would have to speak up.

I didn’t want to be rude so I glanced up at the mirror above where she was looking. I met her eyes, fighting with myself to keep my gaze steady. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile, with this having been our first eye contact since we first met at the airport. “T-thank you…” I said quietly, my voice shaking so much that it even surprised me. I wondered just how long it had been since I’d last spoken. I was pretty sure it’d been at least days or something. It was hard to know for sure.

“You’re welcome, darling.” She replied. I immediately looked away, having done my duty.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence… at least for me. The woman, however, just kept talking. She told me all about the town and where she used to hang out as a kid, suggesting I check them out as well once I felt comfortable enough. The town was small, and the only chain-restaurant in sight was the McDonalds we’d just come from. There were only three schools in the general vicinity; elementary, junior high, and senior high. Being that I was in the eleventh grade, I would be attending the senior year. Classes had already started a few days ago, but my aunt insisted I could catch up quickly. I wasn’t so sure.

We reached the house within five minutes, since the town was so damn small. I was stunned when I saw the house. It was much larger than I’d ever imagined. But you could tell that it was old, just from one glance. It was your typical Victorian-style home, with it’s large porch and gabled roofs. The color of the house was a deep and dark green that definitely gave the house an unwelcoming gloom. Although I appreciated the architecture and the sheer size of the house, I wished desperately that it could be repainted with a brighter, easier-on-the-eyes color. Then it wouldn’t be so goddamn depressing. 

“Impressive, ain’t it?” The woman suddenly spoke, making me startle. 

I had no choice but to nod my head, obviously not wanting to insult her previous house. She grinned in response and finally stepped out of the car, going to the back door to let me out. “I reckon I oughta get that damn door fixed… It’ll get annoying real quick. Or you could just sit up front with me, you know.” She suggested meekly. I didn’t respond as usual, although secretly agreeing. 

Keeping my eyes to the ground, I walked to the back of the car, waiting for her to unlock the trunk. I had managed to pack all my belongings and clothing into one medium-sized black suitcase. She’d been stunned when she first saw this, wondering if another luggage had been lost. Growing up as a foster kid meant you had to always be ready to pack all your shit and move on to the next place… so I had learned early on to carry with me only the absolute necessities. She insisted that she would change this over time. 

The woman took her time in walking over to where I stood, and was equally slow with inserting her key and finally unlocking the trunk. I promptly rushed to lift the rusty metal up and reached in to grab my suitcase, almost too eager to have my hands on it. My aunt let out a small chuckle, amused by this eagerness for some reason. I think she was just impressed at me showing any kind of emotion besides indifference. 

Once I’d managed to pull out the semi-heavy bag, she closed the trunk before I even had the chance. I struggled with the handle of my suitcase, trying to get it up so I could tug it behind me as I walked up the steps of the front porch. The old thing wouldn’t budge, and I considered lifting it up and carrying it instead, but the woman rushed over to assist me. 

“Here, sweetie, let me help you.” She’d said, with only one violent tug managing to bring the handle up to where I needed it. I couldn’t help but blush, feeling pathetic and weak for having such difficulty with it. She noticed my embarrassment and gently laid a hand on my shoulder. 

“Don’t start feelin’ bad about yourself, now, you were just going at it too gently. Those old things need force, I should know.” She said, laughing a bit. The woman then left my side to return to her car, picking up the bags of food she’d left on the passenger seat. I wondered if the food had become soggy by now, since we hadn’t touched it all in the car. 

I pulled my suitcase along with me up the three steps leading to the porch. Up close, you could tell that the house still had most of its original paint, since it was chipping and even rusted in some parts. It intrigued me how the paint had sufficed to look as good as it did now after several seasons of rainfall and general disrepair most houses of the same age fell into. 

I stood still in front of the door, almost mesmerized by seemingly nothing. It was just a normal-looking, uninteresting door… but for some unbeknownst reason, it had me absolutely entranced. Similarly to the rest of the town, this door was sickeningly familiar to me. It wasn’t even a comforting kind of feeling, if anything it made me want to break down, drop everything, and run far, far away from the place. 

“The door’s open.” My aunt called out from the driveway, shaking me from my trance. I glanced back at her with what must’ve seemed like a terrified expression, since she frowned so deeply. I looked away as soon as she had, my free hand going to encircle the cold, metal knob of the front door. I yelped back immediately, as a shock of electricity was sent from the knob to my hand. 

The woman immediately rushed over with the bags of food in her hands, thinking something had gone wrong. I nursed my injured hand with the other one, letting my suitcase go. “I-it shocked me.” Was all I said. 

She burst into laughter, once again amused by my display of emotion. I, however, didn’t think this was so funny. Sure, I’d been shocked several times by school chairs and metal surfaces, but I’d never experienced something quite so painful as that. It was almost as if I’d been shocked by an actual electrical outlet.

She finally stopped laughing and hesitantly reached for the door knob as I just had. I half expected her to jump back too, maybe even jokingly, but she just turned it without issue. Once she’d finally opened the door all the way, I was hit with a rush of cold air and a musty smell, which houses as old as this one tended to have. It was not too unpleasant, though, and I was certain it could be much, much worse. Hell, I’d experienced the worst of the worst first hand. 

The interior of the house appeared just as ancient as the exterior did, with interesting and slightly peeling wallpapers, and old style furniture and rugs. The floors were real wood, and in surprisingly good condition. I wondered if perhaps they’d had to be replaced. The whole house couldn’t possibly be in its original form anyways, otherwise it’d be falling apart. 

As unappealing as the decor was, it was much more light-hearted than the dismal green color of the outside part of the house. Shades of pink and white were often used. I could tell the woman didn’t care much for modernization, but she took the utmost of care in the house which had been graciously passed down to her. I wondered if she would pass it on to me. 

“Welcome to your new home, Violet! It’s been in my hands for the last thirty years and I grew up here. Your great-grandparents chose to leave it to me when they made the decision to retire in Florida… I had no complaints. Having such a big house at such a young age would surely give me an advantage over all the others, I thought. Well the damned house practically took over my life, with all the repairs I was forced to do.” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in distaste. 

I glanced around again as she led me to the kitchen area, which definitely looked a bit more modern than the rest of the house, but still not to a great extent. Everything was spotless, so it looked almost out of place when she laid the bags of food on the counter. The house was so stiff and untouched that it resembled a museum exhibit rather than an actual house people lived in. I hoped she had just tidied up to impress me, and it wasn’t always like this. 

We ate our fast food rather quickly. I’d been on a flight for the vast majority of the day, and only indulged myself in a few light snacks here and there. I wasn’t all that hungry when we’d first arrived at McDonalds, but this had apparently changed in the time it’d taken to get to the house. I devoured each nugget, dipping them in my favorite sauce – sweet and sour. I had a feeling that she was impressed by just how fast I had eaten, since I’d claimed I wasn’t very hungry.

Once I finished my meal, I felt indebted to thank her once more for the food. I hadn’t even planned on talking as much as I had on the first day, but I didn’t want to give off the impression that I was ungrateful for all she was doing. I wasn’t heartless, I just knew that her efforts were in vain. I figured I might as well save her the pain and all her time.

But it was odd how determined this woman was to get to know me and make me comfortable. In a way, it did feel like she was genuinely interested in me as a person. I figured despite her tendency to talk a lot, she secretly was just as shy as I could be. It was weird how she, at the age of fifty-five, she had no husband nor boyfriend and hadn’t had a single child. I was all for independence, but she just seemed to live a very lonely life.

Although I’d wasn’t exactly the most extroverted person in the world, and often difficult to get along with, yet I had my fair share of friends throughout my years of moving from home to home and school to school. Sometimes I would go an entire year without making a single friend, while other times I would get lucky and people would seek me out and befriend me. I wouldn’t say I’d ever had a close friend since I was young, but I definitely could admit to missing a few of them here and there. I wondered if I would get lucky this time around too.

Once she finished her food, she took me around the house, giving me a complete tour. There were only two floors, and an attic that she advised me to not go up to – apparently it was filled with all kinds of nasty creatures and she desperately needed to call an exterminator. The first floor of the house included the main living room near the front door, with the dining room on the other side. In the middle of it all was a grand staircase. Once you walked past the stairs, the kitchen was on the same side of the dining room, while an impressive library lay on the side of the living room. Further back was a small bathroom and a “powder room” as she called it. To me, it just looked like a second living room to me. Inside, she surprisingly had a television. It was the only one in the entire house and looked straight out of Poltergeist. I supposed, even I would be desperate enough to use it at some point.

Having gone through the entirety of the downstairs level, she took me up the stairs to the second floor. She insisted that it was just filled with empty bedrooms from when it was filled by a family much larger than her own had been down the line. I wasn’t all that interested in most of the rooms, but she did mention where her own was as well as the bathroom that I would be using. It was thankfully not too far away from my own room – which was the second largest bedroom of the house. She insisted I would grow to love it, as it had been her childhood room before her parents had moved out.

As I went to lay out my suitcase on the bed, looking around at the ugly, cracked wallpaper, I wondered how anyone could grow to love a house like this. 


	2. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: Mentions of blood, injury, and death.

I awoke with a jolt; so violently that the cheap bed made a squeak of indignation. I could feel my heart pounding inside my chest like never before. It felt as though I’d run a marathon rather than having been sleeping inside a bed. It was dark but I could vaguely make out the very first room I’d ever been able to call my own. Sitting there in the dark I could already tell my body as mine, but not quite in my control. 

When I slid off the bed and padded on bare feet — the feet of what seemed to be a child — across to what I assumed was the door, it clearly wasn’t of my own free will. As strange as the concept was, I seemed to have traveled through time to a night which still plagued me to this day. This was not the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last. 

Just as I had that night and every other night, I felt around for the door knob, disoriented by the darkness all around me and the concept of not having control over my own body. When my strangely small hand finally made purchase with that cold round metal, I twisted it open and shoved the door aside. It had been apparent for a while that I’d been awoken by the sounds of voices and some other banging or crashing noises that I couldn’t quite distinguish. Seeing as I’d already lived through the experience several times, I was aware of just what was going on and what those noises were. 

If I had control I would, without a doubt, stay locked inside my room. Nothing I did or could think of doing would alter the sequence of events yet to follow. There was no point in trying to stop it from happening, so why was I forced to watch it unfold for the nth time? I couldn’t so much as close my eyes or turn away slightly. My body was not truly my body; it was just a vessel which acted on reflex rather than on will. 

While I tiptoed shakily towards my doom, I tried my hardest to distance myself mentally from what was going on… to remind myself time and time again that what I was seeing wasn’t exactly real — at least not anymore. I could hear the shattering of a plate which originated from the same location as all the other commotion. This, as it had so many years ago, prompted me into a mad dash. My little feet projected me forward at a speed I’d never known myself to be capable of. I watched rather unaffected as my body made contact with the edge of the doorway leading into the kitchen. 

I felt a sickening crunch of bone as my face smashed into the firm structure. I didn’t even feel the searing pain as I slipped backwards onto the rough carpeted ground, metallic tasting and smelling blood already dripping from my nostrils. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes, but the pain of my broken nose was completely nonexistent. I figured it’d been so long since the real experience that I had altogether forgotten how the injury had felt. 

Nursing my bleeding nose, I was somehow able to lift myself up from the ground and continue through the doorway as intentioned. The section that I’d collided with was already stained red with my blood, which was steadily slipping through my fingertips and staining the thankfully already dark carpet. I was still entirely indifferent to the events happening all around me. After all, there were still more horrific things to come. 

The room was quite literally trash, in every sense of the word. More broken plates and bowls littered the dirty, cracked tiled floor of the kitchen. The eight-year old me tried my best to avoid these large and small shards of porcelain shards scattered about my walkway, but ultimately brushed past a few of them. I could still remember more clearly than anything else, the intense pain of removing each individual piece of glass with a flimsy pair of tweezers. I wasn’t sure why the doctors hadn’t just done it while taking care of my nose, but I guess they had more important things to do at the time and my crappy, poor-people insurance only covered so much. 

Thinking about that had made me forget about my present situation, so I’d been almost startled when I’d looked up to see the tall figure of my father standing before me. Younger me was blissfully unaware, grabbing onto my father’s hand with my clean one. I tugged once, presumably trying to get his attention and to figure out just what in the hell was going on. 

He turned back to look at me in almost a delayed manner, his movements stiff and unhuman-like. I really wanted to look away at the moment, my brain screaming for my body to move and to run as fast I could away. But eight-year old me hadn’t known any better… hadn’t known that what I would be looking at was not the man I thought he was. His eyes were wide, filled with horror, tears streaming down his cheeks as they did mine. I made a confused noise, not understanding why he would be so upset. I’d never seen my mother cry, let alone my father.

“Daddy… why are you crying?” I heard my soft, much younger voice say, obviously quivering from the fear of what I didn’t know. 

He appeared unsettled by the sound of my voice, his eyes still not quite focusing on me. “I… I’m not crying…” He replied, his voice cracking weakly. 

Using only my small hand, I was able to gently push him aside, trying to see what he’d been staring at so intensely. My other hand fell from my still-bleeding-profusely nose to my mouth as I stifled a gasp of horror at the image before me. 

My mother lay lifeless, her delicate and beautiful face still upturned towards the ceiling, her eyes opened wide and unfocused, and her lips parted as though she were about to utter a word. She was clad in a silk nightgown, specifically the pink one that she always told me was her favorite. The area nearby her heart was soaked with her fresh crimson blood, the handle portion of one of our kitchen knives still protruding grotesquely from her chest. 

I’m not sure whose voice it was screaming, but it was absolutely ear-shattering, so much so that I’d leapt up from my actual bed… back in my actual reality. My hand, now much bigger than they’d previously been, going up to my nose. I felt no blood, but rather a stream of tears still falling rapidly. I sniffled loudly, wiping them away in a furious manner. I was truly embarrassed for having been so upset by the stupid dream, which I’d already had too many times to count throughout my life. Sure, it had been a while since the last time, but that didn’t excuse acting a total baby and getting all emotional. 

Thankfully, it was already sometime in the morning — clear to me only from the light peeking through the blinds and illuminating small rectangles of light across the floor nearby. I sat up gradually, my head reeling from the movement. The bed beneath me was old and quite rickety, so it made an annoyingly loud creak in response. This reminded me vaguely of the bed I’d woken up in at the beginning of that terrible dream.

The sound of the door handle being jostled with attracted hmmm attention immediately. I stared at it moving ever so slightly each direction with bated breath. I was able to reason with myself that it was probably just my aunt, but that didn’t make it any less creepy looking. A few seconds passed before there was a gentle knock on the door, which caused me to jump up from the bed in alarm and tentatively cross the room. 

“H-hello?” I called out, not wanting to open the door unless I got a response from whoever was on the other side. 

“Good morning, Violet!” My aunt called out cheerfully, her voice slightly muffled from the wood between us, but ultimately her own. “Mind opening the door for me?” She added, still sounding as happy-go-lucky as ever. 

I frowned, looking down at the handle. It was odd that she hadn’t been able to get in, though completely explainable by the position of the lock. The thing that struck me as strange was the fact that I had never even locked the door in the first place. There was simply no reasoning for why I would’ve anyways. We were the only people staying in the house and I was quite certain that my aunt wouldn’t ever try anything weird. 

I shrugged it off, though, figuring that I’d made a stupid mistake and it really was no big deal anyways. I undid the lock promptly and opened the door for her. I wasn’t exactly sure just how early it was, but she appeared to be completely awake and dressed. I felt slightly embarrassed, thinking my hair was probably all messed up and I was still in my sleeping clothes. 

“Um, I’m sorry about the locked door. I didn’t mean to…” I replied, fiddling with my fingertips and trying to avoid her eyes. I felt guilty in a way, since it probably seemed like I didn’t trust her — which I didn’t — but I couldn’t help it. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it. These ol’ doors have a mind of their own sometimes anyhow. I brought you a little somethin’...” She gestured to the hanger she was holding at her side. My face immediately dropped as I realized that she was carrying with her an outfit, specifically a school uniform.  _ Fuck.  _

“Is that mine…?” I asked, pointing vaguely in the direction of the hanger.

“Yep! Freshly ironed for your first day of school!” She exclaimed happily, shoving the bundle of clothes towards me. “I’ll give you some privacy to put them on, but if you need help with the tie just let me know!” I hesitantly took ahold of the hanger before it dropped to the floor, and she shut the door behind herself once more, leaving me alone in her old room. 

I took the clothing in my hand, my lip curling in distaste. It was odd for a high school to require uniforms, and the style obviously was that of a private school… possibly a Catholic one. Those were the worst kinds, with the worst people, but it figured that a town like this would only have a religious school. 

Sighing, I made my way to the single bed in the corner of the room, laying the uniform down onto it. I couldn’t fathom the thought of wearing a skirt, but apparently this place hadn’t updated to the twenty-first century and still required the girls to wear them. I’d definitely seen uglier, I had to admit. The blazer was plain black, with white lining the ends of it as well as the pockets. The skirt was your typically checkered one, but thankfully also only black and white. The undershirt was just a plain white long-sleeved shirt, finished off with a tie that was identical to the skirt’s fabric. 

I slumped my shoulders, thinking about how uncomfortable it would be to walk around with my pale and skinny legs showing. Thankfully I still hadn’t grown much hair since I started puberty nearly four years ago, so that was one less insecurity. I defeatedly shrugged off my pajamas, slipping into the uniform. 

It fit well enough, all things considered. Even if it hadn’t, it wasn’t as though I had any choice but to wear the damn thing. I didn’t bother looking in the old antique mirror in the corner to check my appearance. I figured it was better not knowing, so I wouldn’t be obsessing over how bad I looked all day. My morning rituals were simple and sparse, so all I really had to do was brush my hair and then exit the room to walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. For whatever reason I was nervous to leave the safety of my new room – as ugly as it was. I took my time untangling my mane of hair; as short it was, it was still a major handful. Apparently when I slept, I tossed and turned, therefore managing to get it messy and tangled. The knots were admittedly painful to brush through, but I wasn’t exactly rushing through the act, so that somewhat eased the pain. 

When I’d finished and set the brush down, I spent a long while staring straight ahead at the door like it was some ferocious beast I was preparing to battle with. Although it wasn’t exactly the door that I was battling with, it was the house as a whole. As soon as I’d stepped inside my room the previous night, I had stayed there with the door closed tight – and apparently locked at some point in the night. The house outside of my room carried within it a heavy, ominous feeling. It wasn’t a feeling that any house should have, to be so dense with atmosphere that it was difficult to lift one foot in front of you. 

I opened it anyways, in a swift motion that I didn’t even have to think about. The lights in the hallway were on, illuminating the corridor in a yellow glow from the old-fashioned bulbs. I supposed I needed to get used to everything being so old, and easily breakable I presumed. Near the end of the hallway by my door, the red and expensive-looking carpet was sticking up just slightly, likely the result of my aunt walking over it and accidentally flipping the corner up. I sighed, knowing my brain wouldn’t just let me leave it be. 

I neared the carpet and bent down carefully, not trying to flash anyone even despite me being the only person upstairs. I managed to fix it out without any mishaps and carried on to the bathroom adjacent to my bedroom. I spent a decent amount of time inside the bathroom, washing my face and brushing my teeth, but also leaning over the counter and trying to talk myself out of my steadily growing anxiety. It wasn’t as though I’d never had to go to a different school. In fact, I’d transferred multiple times in one particular school year and managed to survive. There was absolutely nothing another person could say or do to make me feel any worse than I already did, so being anxious about it was literally pointless. 

Sadly still not entirely convinced, I left the bathroom. It was getting later and later and I really didn’t want to have to run the whole way to school. I noticed as soon as I was back in the hallway that the carpet corner I’d previously fixed had returned to its messed-up position. I groaned aloud and forced myself to leave the stupid thing alone and go downstairs. There my aunt had a plate laid out on the counter in the kitchen, which upon two pancakes sat, smoke still rising from them. Beside this plate was a plain black backpack with the school’s emblem ironed onto the front of it. I rolled my eyes, sitting down to eat breakfast. Of course the dress code included backpacks as well.

I supposed my aunt had left just a few minutes ago after setting down the plate of pancakes. I was honestly quite surprised with the amount of trust she was giving me, since she wouldn’t even know for sure if I attended school, and I could just as easily leave and catch a bus to somewhere far away. She was probably convinced just from my behavior alone that I was too timid to even attempt to make an escape on my own. As bad as school probably would be, I could count on staying in this old shithole all day as being far, far worse. Which is exactly why I’d literally scarfed down the bland and obviously freezer-burnt pancakes that had been prepared for me, grabbed my back, and headed to the front door.

The walk to my new school was nothing special. There were a few other people my age, wearing the same uniform walking nearby, which gave me reassurance that I was neither too early nor too late. The morning air was refreshingly chilly, as I’d immediately expected to be blasted by the dry and intense heat of your typical Texas day. My school was no more than a five-minute walk from my aunt’s house, thankfully just short enough for me to get inside before the chime of the first bell rang throughout the halls of the school. I’d never been to a private school before, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. It vastly exceeded my expectations, looking more like a grand church than your typical, run-of-the-mill school. I was impressed. 

As instructed by my aunt, I made my way to the front office (which was thankfully designated as so with a few signs placed around the front of campus). I told them that I was new and I needed to pick up my schedule for the day. There was truthfully nothing exceptional about the staff; they too seemed like they hated their jobs. They were, however, fast and effective enough for me to receive my schedule and a map they’d highlighted for me before the second bell rang for class. While traversing the halls, I kept my head down and avoided the gaze of other students. This was somewhat of a survival tactic that I’d learned throughout my years at various public schools. When I got to my first period, I was one of the last people to enter – but not so much so that all eyes were focused on me. My slight tardiness managed to give me an advantage as well, since I could already make out where I could and could not sit.

The class, specifically advanced history, passed uneventfully. No one seemed to take any notice in my presence, and if they had they made no effort to call it out. It surprised me how well the kids here minded their business. It was as though I was a shadow of a person, that not even the teacher had made an acknowledgement of. I figured perhaps I’d gotten lucky and landed a class with a bunch of laid back people, but as my day carried on I quickly came to understand that the entire school population collectively took a disinterest in my appearance in its halls. I seriously considered for a moment’s time that maybe I was invisible after all, until I had made my way to gym class.

I wasn’t exactly the most athletic person in the world, and I had a serious dislike for running and especially changing in front of a bunch of random people. I hoped at first that since it was my first day, I wouldn’t be expected to wear the gym uniform but when I followed the locker instructions on the back of my schedule (which the front office had written down for me) I was astonished and a bit horrified to see a pair of neatly folded gym clothes sat neatly inside the locker. I was a little impressed, though, that this had gotten done without me having to ask – but I suppose that was to be expected when you went to private school.

I glanced around as discreetly as I could, already seeing girls into their gym clothes and talking amongst themselves. I didn’t want to be a creep so I quickly looked away and back to my locker. When I’d entered into locker room, I had noticed the bathroom stalls on the right side of the building. I didn’t have to use the bathroom, but I just change into my gym clothes and return once everyone was mostly cleared out It wouldn’t be the first time I had used this tactic to avoid uncomfortably changing in front of everyone. 

Still averting my eyes from the others around me, I swiftly grabbed onto my gym clothes inside the locker and replaced them with my backpack, which barely fit into the small compartment. I kept the locker instructions folded inside my blazer pocket, and closed and locked it promptly – although I was certain no one would even want to steal it in the first place. When I got over to the restrooms, I was happy to see that they were empty spare for one towards the end. I slipped inside the middle one and immediately got to work, unbuttoning the one button on the blazer and slinging it over the top of the stall door. I knew it was probably unsanitary, but these bathrooms were perhaps the cleanest public ones I’d ever seen in my life. I took my time with the undershirt, going from one button to the next with a slow pace, while also listening for the gradual decrease in voices and noise. I began to pick up my pace when I’d estimated the noise to have decreased about halfway, tugging the skirt down and off.

Once fully dressed in the loose-fitting shorts and a tee shirt, I collected my other uniform and hurried to my locked. I transferred the instructions from my other pocket to my gym shorts, not wanting to get locked out on my way back from the horrid class. I’d finished this relatively quickly, so I still had a decent amount of time to set around and wait for the second bell to ring. I didn’t want to be late, of course, but it’s not like I wanted to be early either. I sighed, looking around my row to see that no one was present, before plopping down on the bench separating the two facing rows of lockers. I didn’t have much to do for entertainment, so I strained my ears to listen for any interesting conversations. I heard nothing much at first, until I faintly began to make out one between two girls a few rows away.

“…Some janitor or something was apparently in here late at night and hung himself in that one bathroom stall… ya know the one that’s always taken.”

“I know the one. It’s always been closed since we started this year…” The other girl chimed in, her voice having a slightly Southern twang to it. “But like why the girl’s bathroom specifically? Seems kinda odd.”

“I heard he was a real creep… Like spying on girls through the ceiling panels and shit… And I guess he was one of those loner types who lives in their mom’s basement?” The other one responded, uncertainty clear in her voice. 

“I remember seeing some older guy here who gave me weird vibes… Maybe it was him…”

“Probably. Anyways, I keep hearing rumors that they hear noises coming from the stall where he did it… And some girl said she crawled under while everyone was outside and saw someone’s feet dangling just above the toilet…”

I was beyond intrigued by this point, noting that I’d been in the stall right beside the one that was rumored haunted. My gaze traveled towards the entrance of the bathroom. It didn’t exactly look creepy or anything, and I hadn’t experienced anything odd when I had been changing. There was no reason to believe that these rumors were anything more than plain and simple rumors, but I wasn’t one to deny claims merely because I hadn’t experienced them myself.

“I wanna go check it out… There’s still a few minutes left.” The girl with the Southern accent insisted. The other agreed and I began to hear footsteps nearing my area. In the few minutes I’d been eavesdropping on their conversation, the majority of the girls had cleared out of the locker room. I didn’t want it to seem like I’d been eavesdropping so I just sat where I was, looking down at the floor. They probably wouldn’t even notice me in the first place. I curled into myself even more so as the footsteps grew closer, trying to make myself as invisible as humanly possible. I didn’t quite understand why I was so nervous for them in particular to stumble upon me; but I definitely didn’t want to look like some kind of creep.

As they finally made their way to my row, I found myself instinctively holding my breathing, thinking that the sound of it would alert them of my presence. My traitorous eyes were already traveling up and towards them as they passed by, unfortunately making direct contact with one of the girls who was already looking in my direction. I nearly fell off the bench as she let out a short scream, jumping back.  _ Shit, did I look that bad? _

The other girl, who was taller and had dark red hair immediately turned her attention to her friend’s gaze, asking her anxiously what was wrong. When she finally saw me, she immediately went silent, letting out a small chuckle. “What a scaredy-cat you are!” She exclaimed, reassuring her shorter friend with a hand placed on her shoulder. She kept her gaze on me and I looked back rather hesitantly. The girl who’d been scared had calmed herself down, beginning to giggle.

“Oh lord, I thought you were a ghost!” She exclaimed, looking directly at me again. With both their eyes on me, I felt slightly self-conscious, being that no one had so much as glanced at me throughout the entire school day. I hoped I really didn’t look like a ghost, and she was just hyper-aware of her surroundings.

“Sorry about my friend, she’s a bit jumpy…” The other girl replied apologetically shortly afterwards, smiling at me. The smile did not reach her eyes.

“Oh… i-it’s all good…” I forced myself to say, inwardly cringing at how scratchy my voice sounded.

“What’s your name?” The smaller asked, her smile perky and genuine.

“Violet…” I told her, strangely not used to the sound of my own name.

“I’ve never heard of a Violet around town before. Could it be that you’re a new student?” The one with red hair questioned, suspicion clear in her mannerisms. I simply nodded, unsure of what I should say to explain why I was still in the locker room, fully dressed and all alone.

“Oh, that makes sense. I haven’t seen you around the halls ever as well. My name is Minerva. My friend here is Brody. Did you perhaps overhear what we were talking about?”

I hesitated, wondering if it would be better to lie or just tell the truth about my eavesdropping. “I… I didn’t mean to.” I finally answered, rather defeatedly.

“Don’t you worry,” Brody began with another pretty smile, “I do it all the time too when I’m bored. Anyways, have you been inside the bathrooms yet?”

“I just was. The stall right next to the last. I didn’t even know about the rumors.”

Brody gasped a bit, her hand going to her mouth. “For real?! No one goes in there after what happened… the further away from that last stall, the better. Did you experience anything weird in there?”

“Uh, not really. Do you really believe the rumors are, like, true?” I implored, slightly stumbling over my words.

“Of course not.” Minerva immediately replied, cutting off Brody just as she was about to speak. The other girl gave her a dirty look, reaching up to punch her shoulder with her fist.

“The guy really died, I know that, but I’m not sure how to feel about the whole ghost part. It could just be people joking around. It’s hard to take the people in this school seriously, so I wouldn’t think too much of it.” Brody elaborated. This confused me since they had both sounded so genuinely engaged in the story, and obviously she’d been nervous about going to the bathroom, judging from her reaction to seeing me. Maybe they were just trying to save face.

“Oh, okay… I’m pretty skeptical of those types of things.” I quickly rushed out, not wanting to sound like an idiot.

Brody bit her lip, looking as though she wanted to add something to the discussion. But she was ultimately cut off by the shrill ringing of the second bell indicating the start of gym. They made their polite farewells and trailed off to class, leaving me to sit on the bench alone. I looked towards the bathroom area, feeling slightly unsettled to be alone with it now. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. It was just a normal bathroom. The rumors were probably all bullshit anyways.

For the rest of the day, I found myself unable to bring my mind away from the occurrences of the locker room. It was the only interaction I had all day practically, and it was so odd to me how it all had gone down. The girl, Brody, hadn’t been as strange to me as the other girl, Minerva. She had been friendly and bubbly, and didn’t intimidate me in the slightest bit. Minerva, however, had creeped me out. She had such an unusual and intense presence, especially when she had smiled at me. Her eyes held within them a very different narrative than she presented with her expression. I was not usually the type to genuinely be afraid of another person, but she set of all the alarm bells inside my head.

On my walk home, finally through with my first day at this new school, I thought of nothing else but this encounter. I was so entranced in these thoughts, too, that I found myself making a wrong turn and ending up on some random street. There were a few houses on the right side and on the left side nearest to me, there was a massive steel gate up ahead. Curious, and not exactly in a rush to get back to my aunt’s house, I walked a bit further just to examine what was inside. With my hands wrapped tightly around the bars od the gate, I leaned myself forward a bit to peek through the gaps in the gate. It appeared to be an old cemetery – as ironically gruesome as it was. The gate was locked tightly with a chain and padlock so I couldn’t exactly enter, but I took a look around to see if there was anything interesting.

My eyes immediately locked upon an old oak tree. It was a stark patch of darkness among the rest of the cemetery, with a stone seating area placed below. Sitting on the bench was a figure – surprisingly small, but too far away to really make out. I couldn’t so much as see the type of clothes the figure had on, but I could tell that they were reading a rather bulky book, and had it propped up on their lap. As soon as my gaze landed on the figure, I felt an immediate chill run up my spine. I chided myself for being such a wimp, and backed away from the gate. I couldn’t get in anyways, so there was no point in sticking around to see who the mysterious figure was.

I made my way back to the main road without difficulty, the hairs on my neck still standing up. Although I told myself I wasn’t unnerved in the slightest, I found myself quickening my pace to make it back home. I knew I was being influenced by what I’d overheard during gym, and I was still quite shaken up from the shitty dream I’d had that morning. My nerves were shot to hell, and that was my reasoning for why I was so disturbed by the appearance of that (clearly human) figure.

By the time I got back to my aunt’s house, the rest of the people I’d been walking with had all turned onto other streets. It tried my best not to let this bother me and hurried to the massive green structure just a few feet away. I was, in a way, a bit relieved to see that her car was parked in the center of driveway and clearly empty, but I knew she would likely want to know all the details of how my day had went.

Sighing, I reached for the handle of the door, trying my best to push away all the weird things that had happened. 

**Author's Note:**

> Named after the song by the artist "Grimes".  
> Thanks for reading! <3


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